


grabbed my hand pushed me down (took the words right out my mouth)

by orphan_account



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, Good Tozier Parents, Kidnapping, Multi, Mystery, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Repressed Memories, Richie-centric, Stalking, be careful guys, i have waaaay too many wips now, like just ones i’m actively working on, missing person, not just the title, tag you’re it by melanie martinez is a running theme, the ot7 is background, way too many - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:03:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just when the Losers Club thought everything was going well, Richie disappears without a trace. Three months later, he's back, and broken. With no idea what happened to him in those three months, his family and friends have to piece together the clues themselves.Because that's the other thing.He doesn't remember.REWRITTENTHIS VERSION WILL BE DELETED BY 6:00 PM OCTOBER 1 2019





	grabbed my hand pushed me down (took the words right out my mouth)

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea and had to write it. Seriously, though, be careful- this story might get pretty dark. The story title is from Tag, You’re It by Melanie Martinez, which is ironically a song about a kidnapping. The chapter title is from Bad Dream by Ruelle.

Somebody was following Richie. He didn't know who- he hadn't seen them. But he was definitely being followed.

Of all the days to have a broken bike and have to walk home. He'd told his mom he'd be fine walking home and now regretted that.

He kept walking.

_Oh God, oh God_. His stalker was still there.

He walked past an alleyway and a hand seized his arm. He tried to scream, but a hand clamped over his mouth.

The last thing he thought was _oh fuck_.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been three months. Three months of worrying and wondering. Three months of not knowing where Richie was or if he was even alive.

Not that the Losers had been able to do much, given that they were children who had to focus on school.

The Toziers had rather frantically thrown their all into finding him, despite the utter lack of evidence. He had vanished on January 6th, 1990, walking home from school. No one had seen what might have happened. All they knew was a rough time frame and the fact that he had never made it home.

There was just _nothing_. Nothing.

Three. Months. The case had actually attracted a fair amount of attention, what with how long he’d been missing and how little evidence there’d been.

And then out of nowhere the police in Bangor called the Toziers.

Here was what had happened:

A woman driving down the road had seen a kid in pretty ratty, oversized clothes walking barefoot down the side of the road. She’d stopped, concerned, to check on him, and had recognized him from TV when they’d shown a picture. He’d been clearly afraid, skittish, and reluctant, but she managed to convince him to get in her car and had taken him straight to the police. This had been just outside of Bangor.

The Toziers raced for the Bangor hospital that they’d been asked to come to. Before being allowed to go see Richie, the doctor who’d treated him had to explain the injuries.

“He’s- there’s no easy way to say this, Mr. Tozier, Mrs. Tozier. He was raped.”

Maggie gasped softly and Went’s jaw clenched.

“Multiple times, I believe.” the doctor went on. “There’s a lot of physical trauma.”

Maggie straightened her shoulders, glancing at the police officer who was sitting in the room. “And who did it?”

“We don’t know.” the officer replied, looking to the doctor.

The doctor sighed. “I did ask a few questions that we’re required to ask. He didn’t know the answers. Sometimes, with extreme trauma, the mind attempts to protect itself. In other words, his memories of the past three months appear to be repressed. There may be other explanations, but that’s the most common one.” The doctor paused, then continued. “Repressed memories simply means that he can’t access them-”

Maggie interrupted him. “I have a degree in psychology, Doctor. Rest assured I know what repressed memories are.” Her voice was tight. “Can we see our son or not?”

The doctor blinked, startled. “Oh. Yes, of course-” He rose to his feet and led the Toziers to Richie’s room.

Richie was curled up on the bed, staring fixedly at the wall. When his parents entered he showed little reaction, other than blinking, until his mother said in a wavering voice, “Richie?”

He turned and his eyes widened. “Mom? Dad?” He uncurled a little as he said it.

“Oh, honey-” His mother rushed over and wrapped her arms around him tightly. Wentworth was only a few steps behind. Richie hugged back, clinging to his parents and crying. They cried too, holding him tight, half-afraid to let him go.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Losers found out the next day when they made their usual stop at the Tozier house to ask if there was any news. This time, Maggie nodded.   
“He’s home now.” she managed, smiling through tears. “Do you want to see him?”

“Yes!” Bill said immediately. The others all nodded, eager to see Richie again.

Maggie explained to them as she took them upstairs, about what they knew of what had happened and the fact that he couldn’t remember. At all. He hadn’t even known three months had passed.

Richie was curled up on his bed upstairs, staring out the window and feeling sore, searching through the black hole of the last three months. He tensed when the door opened, but it was his friends.

His _friends_. Fuck. He was gonna cry again.

He blinked at them, swallowed, and managed, “Hey, guys-”  
They shuffled over to the bed and Bill sat on the edge. “H-hi, Richie.” he said softly, holding out a hand. Richie understood- Bill was silently asking if it was okay to touch him. In answer, Richie scooted over and wrapped his arms around Bill, hugging him as tightly as he could. Bill hugged back, and the others quickly joined in, and the Losers Club was reunited and loved each other and Richie thought maybe it didn’t matter that he didn’t remember.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Richie may not have been able to remember the past three months, but that didn’t mean that his kidnapper couldn’t remember. No, the man was fully knowledgeable about those three months, and infuriated about Richie’s escape.

Oh, he’d find him. He’d find him, all right.

_You’re mine, you little brat. You’re mine_.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sure how much interest there might be in this, and this is a fairly short chapter, but I am indeed going to keep writing this. Hopefully it interests someone. Leave a comment and kudos if you liked it!


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